A mixed bag of babies and a blog

Happiness

10/16/2011

Jocelyn is perfecting the art of being three. She is not as much interested in the WHY of life as in the WHERE and WHO. “Where you going?” “Who combed your hair?” “Who bring this?” And she is perfecting her defiance—something that takes over her sweet nature when I’m trying to get her out of the car or into bed each night. Tonight when I tucked her in for the third time she said, “Mommy, I had a rough day.”

Life at three is a series of stops and starts.

Stops

She started ballet class yesterday. I should say that I signed her up for ballet class, but she didn’t quite dance. She clung to Khary and screamed in agony each time he tried to get her to stand or twirl. The teacher told me that she may not be ready. I did not take this well.

Starts

For the second year we drove out to Livermore to Joan’s Farm to find the perfect pumpkin. Twelve months ago Jocelyn saw the pony rides and jumped and skipped and said, “Horsie! Horsie!” We paid for a ticket and stood in line. The man in charge took her hand and lifted her up on to the pony. She began screaming before he could even latch her belt.

I expected a repeat performance. Screaming, crying, and all-around fear. But she cautiously held onto the reigns with a coy smile on her face. At times I had to wave to get her attention because she was in deep concentration as the ponies walked around and around and around.

The girls found their perfect pumpkins and we headed home. Later, Jocelyn spotted the pumpkins out on the patio. She screeched with delight. “Pumpkins!”

Her nose pressed against the glass, she asked loudly, “Who bring them?”

10/05/2011

October kicked off with a little celebration of tourism. Love and tourism. Love and marriage and tourism. And most importantly, no children.

Nearly four years ago Khary and I exchanged wedding vows and embarked on the crazy life we live together. Somewhere I have a copy of my vows, where I talked about knowing the moment I met him that he was one of the kindest men I’d ever met, and one of the most persistent. That part got laughs because most of our family and friends knew about the years he tried to court me. Woo me. Sweep me off my feet. During those years, I wanted to be friends. And then one day, I wanted more. That was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

If we were to redo our vows, Khary would insist on making his funny. I had made him promise that he would not TRY and be funny because he needed to profess his love for me (he did). He told me after that he wished he had tried. Because I got the laughs.

We escaped the sunny side of the bay and ventured back to San Francisco to get our anniversary on. The plan included a stop at Fog City Diner for lunch, a short Bay Cruise, a Pedi-cab ride back to the ferry building, wine and oysters and the Hog Island Oyster Co., and then a little rest and relaxation in our hotel room before dinner.

The rest of the night was pure Chez Romance—riding the 38 bus down Geary Street surrounded by a bunch of drunk people. It was one of those nights, when cabs were full or nonexistent. But it didn’t spoil our mood (almost, but the wine helped keep me happy). We still had a fabulous dinner and finally managed to hit up one of our favorite spots in the Mission: Bar.

In the morning I missed the girls but we managed to stretch the morning out to afternoon because kids do not understand anniversaries or hangovers.

09/05/2011

1. Load the girls in their strollers and walk to dinner. Ignore the “oh shit” faces of the waitstaff when you ask for a table for four. Swear that you can see the woman’s brain say, “Are you sure you don’t want it To Go?”

2. Stop for ice cream on the way home. Okay, so it’s gelato, because the line for Fenton’s Creamery looks like it’s Free Scoop Day. Only it’s not. Revel in the joy that is your child covered in chocolate.

3. Set up the tent in the living room, unroll the sleeping bags, load all the flashlights with batteries and turn out the lights. Now camp.

4. Curl up and watch the girls play a game of chase around the tent. Laugh at their exuberance and scoot over to let them take turns getting into your sleeping bag and pretend to be asleep.

5. Turn the lights back on while Jocelyn cheerfully announces, “We did it camping.” Put the kids to bed.

I decided that one way to bring a little excitement to the holiday weekend would be to try out camping at home. I have bred urban babies so it’s important to ease them into life amongst the things that creep and crawl. We have taken plenty of opportunities to hike and be one with nature, in daylight hours. But camping is not in Khary’s vocabulary, so perhaps this is more about easing him in.

To say the girls enjoyed it is an understatement. But two things were clear:

1. Jocelyn prefers the ability to turn a light on and off.

2. Camping at home does not equal sleeping in a tent. After two hours of running and screaming and laughing, it was clear that we were going to have to put them to sleep in their room.

08/01/2011

07/27/2011

Jocelyn doesn't remember a time when she was the only baby in the house, and I'm sure she won't remember meeting Aja for the first time. She was surprised and excited and unsure. She looked at the tiny baby in the carseat and decided she immediately needed to sit in it herself. Then she got up, ran around in circles and pooped her pants. Donning a new diaper and a new outfit, she insisted that she hold her baby sister.

Almost two years later they are infatuated with one another and it is a beautiful thing to watch.